Secret Love
by Sharonluvzpohtahto
Summary: In the midst of torrid affair, John and Sally must fight to protect their forbidden love from exposure. How long can they sustain their secret before Sherlock's immense deductive powers expose their passion?
1. Secret Love

Hey guys, hope you all like my Johnovan fan fic! This is my first time writing a fan fic =p.

John felt a sudden feeling of anguish as he heard footsteps outside the door. This could only be… Sherlock. He felt a lot of panic and loocked the door. Soon Sherlock would know about his secret relationship with… Donovan. The song "Secret Love" by his favourite band the BGs, played in his mind as he said to Donovon, who had been hiding be hind the door "it's OK, you can come out now". There was a knoack at the door. "OH no, it's Sherlock" he thought.. Sherlock said:" hello John, can you please open the door for me. I would like to enter the room." "John was shocked, and he said "fuck off Sherlock I'm trying to solve this really difficult maths problem" Sherlock is confused, why was John solving a maths problem because usually he does not like to try to solve maths problems also he is a doctor who does not do maths. Sherlock knocks on the door again, growing ever impatient. And then John sighs; yes I will have to open the door, he thought to himself. He strode across the room like a lion intnet on devouring it's prey. He opens the door, and sees Sherlock standing at the door. "Hello john, " Sherlock says, looking into the room and seeing Donomvon standing their. "What is going on here, why is Donoevan here?" said Sherlock. "Well," says John, "The truth is….."

"we are working on a case" said donovan "I didn't want to tell you because I know you have a lot of cases already also you are too busy larning the violin."

"Oh ok then fair enough I guess. I will leave you to it but I need to go out now I have to buy some violin supplies like strings.:"


	2. Spirits, Having Flown

"that was close, we were nearly found out by Sherlock." Said John looking into the beautiful face of Donovon. He looked at her with a lot of admiration and a searing passion rose through his chest like acid reflux. She had a very beautiful and statuesque face "you have a really beautiful face" said Jhon. "Wow, thank you so much, it means a lot, to me that you would say, that I am beautiful, or rather, that I have a beautiful face, haha." "Haha, Donovan, you really are smart and funny." "oh stop it your making me blush." Said Donovan who was obviously really flattered and felt happy "no its true I want to be with you, it's just a shame that Sherlock cannot know." Said John with an unmaskable **sadness**. "we could run away together like in your favourite BGs song" said Donovan "its my favourite because every time I hear it I see you're beautiful and statuesque face in my minds eye." Said John "our spirits could fly away together and then "spirits having flown" we could run free… frees as a bird." In that moment. John imagined himself and Sally, unrestrained by the shackles of everyday life, of their work, of clothes, of Sherlock's omniscient prescence. But thruthefully, he cared about Sherlock. He knew he could not keep lying to his old friends. But he felt trapped. Trapped, like a fly, in a sealed packet of bread. "What shall I do?" Thought John.

"donovan there is something I need to ask of you. A big favour. Will you…."

...

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><p>Thanks for reading xxxxx<p>

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	3. Love So Right

Wow, 3000 views! I've never been more surprised and flattered! Thanks for all the positive feedback 2 my loyal readers. there is plenty more Johnovan coming your way - xoxo Sharon

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><p>Chapter 3<p>

A Love So Right

"Will you help me make tea please? I don't know how to make tea sorry this is awkward" said John. "Yes of course my dear," Said Donovan. Then they made tea. First they got out the teabags, which were located in the pantry, which was as old as an old 'oak' tree. "There they are." Whispered Donovan as she saw the teabags, and got them from the pantry. John in that moment imagined both he and Donovan sensually draped in the sheer silky fabric that encapsulated the tea leaves, locked in a passionate embrace. "Donovan I would like to be in a passionate embrace with you inside one of those tea bags" said John in a raspy and sexual voice. "Anyway, said donovan, here is how you make tea. Then they made tea sensually, using hot water that was as hot as donovan, john thought with a snicker. "what's so funny?" Inquired Donovan in an inquiring tone like a police woman, which she is. "That boiling water is still not as hot as our secret love" "'tis true, sighed Donovan, "How did a love, so right, turn out to be, so wrong?"

John then thought back to when they had first met. It had been a hot, steamy night down at the police station after Sherlock had gone there for a case. There was a lot of sexual tension in the questioning room that night. John had looked over at Donovan, who looked particularly hot and steamy that night.

that night, they engaged in activities of a sensual nature involving more disreputable body parts.

"She came on like the night and she held on tight and the world was right when she m*de l*ve to me" thought John with a sudden pang of nostalgia like an aggressive hiccup. That night they had existed together free from the shackles of sherlock's scornful glare because sherlock hates everything sappy and schmultzy and John doesn't like to be disapproved of by sherlock. But alas, both of them realised it would not last. "will we ever be together again?" said Donovan "I don't know" said John, a tear falling from his eye like when the tap is not fully functional. "I hope so"

**But truthfully… John didn't know and the words of "Love So Right" echoed in his mind "Where did she go? When I need her close to me? And the perfect story ended at the start" cajoled the sensual and raspy voice of Barry Gibb.**


	4. I've Just Got to Get a Message to You

At that moment John heard footsteps outside the door. "John, they did not have strings at the violin supply shop, so I am home." said Sherlock's deep, throaty and seductive voice.

"It's a good thing that Donovan left just moments before, otherwise Sherlock might have walked in again, and seen us in a rather compromising position, it really would have been awful, quite unfortunate indeed." Thought John.

"Can I enter the room please John?" Sherlock said as he prowled around the corner like a hunter on the pursuit of a butterfly. "why are there two tea bags you have week tea so it doesn't make sense that you would use two?" sherlock enquired like a true sleuth.

John breathed deeply. Very deeply, like a deep ocean. He looked up into sherlock's beautiful eyes.

"Today mrs hoadson wanted a tea as well, so I made a tea for her. Why are you asking me so many questions, why do you need to know everything." john demanded like a demanding child. beads of sweat were forming on his neck, so much so that a mermaid could have made a necklace out of them. "Well you see John, while i was on my way to collect violin supplies, I saw Mrs. Hoadson in a nearby home brewing shop looking at hops. I do not believe that she was here drinking a cup of tea. I s there a problem that you would like to discuss with me, yer ol' mate Sherlock Holmes? Cap'n Wa'son ye can tell me all yer secrets." John sighed. "It's true, Mrs Hoadson wasn't drinking tea with me. The truth is…" (A moment of panic washed over john and he felt adrenaline rush rivalled only by that of having s*xual interc**rse with donovan in public)

It was a dark night down at scotland yard, and there was even more s*xual t*nsion at the station than usual.

"there is a spare room. We could go in there and use it and no one would know. I have the key because I work here." said donovon. "Ah, I see, the key to an unoccupied questioning room."

John came back too reality after imagining those scenes of hot s*x. Sherlock.. "I've Just Got To Get A Message To You…"


	5. Still Waters Run Deep

"Yes John what is the problem? Please tell me, I'm you're trust worthy friend, remember." Cajoled and tittered Sherlock. "okay, my trust worthy chum, I will tell you." "The truth is…. i'm in love."

"I believe love to be a burden caused by sentiment which i believe to have a detrimental effect on cognitive functions which i believe are the most important abilities we possess as i believe in the power of reasoning. Now tell me is it molly? because she is in love with me, and it's obviously not Mrs Hoadson no offence but she is old"

"Well… the truth is… the one i love is…..

week tea. I really like it. I thought i liked strong tea but really all along i loved week tea.""

"week tea is a chemical defect found on the loosing side. it is caused by not leaving the leaves in for long enough. i believe in accuracy".

I'm sorry Sherlock." says John.

Sherlock watched John with a scornful scathing look on his face as John poured some water out of a still water bottle into the kettle, presumably to make some more week tea. With an expression of true, true disgust on his face, Sherlock said ," Are you using still water to make yuor week tea john?" "Yes, " said john. I am. "I'm sorry John but I disagree with this. Have you been reading more conspiracy books about people urinating in water tanks."

John looked so embarrassed, absolutely humiliated. "Yes I have, it's a serious problem that I genuinely believe in." 'well that's ridiculous because for all you know there could be even more urine in still water."

John was reminded of his secret affair with donovon and how sherlock hates everything to do with relationships and felt sad and alone

"there is no need to get emotional john it is just still water, or are you like the painting of a sorrow, a face without a heart." john felt a single tear roll down his cheek. "Still Waters Run Deep, sherlokc…."


	6. Alone

Sorry 4 the wait guys xxxxxxxxxxxx appreciate ur comments, likes, subscribes, reviews, facebook, twitter, goog plus as always luv u all xxxx

Anyway, it's time to get ready for the party. Said Sherlock. I really hate parties, people will be there, I'm a misanthrope, I don't like people." He said. "I truly don't care to socialize. I don't."

"well you really wil have to get over it because its my birthday and I wont have you ruining my party.' said John. "every one will be here … Mycroufte, Molly Hooper, Detective inspecter Gregory Lestrade, Mrs. Hoadson, Anderson, and.. sergeant Sally Doonavon" said john as he became flustered like a menopausal hot flush, looking away, heart beating fast. "What's the matter Hohn?" asked Sherlock. "Just some acid reflux."

6 hours later

Welcome," said John. "Thank you John," said Mrs. Hoadson. "I remember I had a similar painting on the wall during my salad days, hello Sherlock as well." Sherlock did not reply, as he was a very unsociable person, a misanthrope.

"Welcome, everyone else." Said John. "Would you like some alcoholic beverages?" said John. "I don't think that's such a good idea john, Anderson is wasted already" said Molly pointing to Anderson who was already wasted. "Welcome to the party guys." Said Anderson. "I would like some wine, pease." Said Mycroft. "Would you like red or white wine?" said John. "Let me see….. white wine please." "I'm sorry Mycroft, said John, we only have red wine. Red wine **Alone**." "I see," said Mycroft. "That's okay."

There was a knock at the door. Johns heart started beating like hard core techno through the walls of a disreputable nightclub. "I'll answer the door." he said. When he opened the door, he saw Donovon's beautiful and statuesque face "sorry I'm late my cat vomited on my shirt" said Donovon. John smiled. "haha,"

While no one was looking, they engaged in a brief interlude of sensual mouth to mouth contact involving slithering tongues. "Welcome Sally," said Lestrade. "Hi Lestrade and everyone else." Said Donovon. "Ha ha, I see that you and John have been getting up to some jiggery pokery….."

"What is the meaning of this. that Anderson has _said_?" said Sherlock.


	7. How Can You Mend a Broken Heart

John went red like an angry tomato that has just received some embarrassing news. "I don't know what you're talking about anderson i really don't." said John in a somewhat embarrassed way, while remaining very red in the **face**. "John your face is more red than my red wine" observed Mycroufte, who is even more clever and observant than Sherlock.

"so John and Donovan how is your s*x life" asked Molly very casually, like a person who was having a nice, relaxing morning stroll. Mrs Hoadson piped up and made a crude remark about being able to hear them through the walls. John became even more red. Very red. Sherlock looked at John in a questioning manner, as though he did not know what was going on. "hear them doing what. playing my violin? john I have asked you not to touch my things." said sherlock like a s*xually oblivious detective. There was a slightly awkward atmosphere in the room.

"That is a very personal question I would rather not answer that" said Donovan who was also red like a furious crayfish who has had too much red cordial. "Anyway, " said Andersno. "LET'S GET THIS PARTAY STARTED!" said Anderson who then began to dance enthusiastically. Barry Gibb's deep and throaty voice cajoled a sad and mournful tune "AAAAAahhhaaahhaaannnnndd How can you mend a broken heart."

that is so true barry, thought john with a silent tear as he thought about how rude people were about his in depth personal continued dancing to the mournful tune, as did everyone else. Anderson who was **wasted** violently pelvic thrusted in a profane manner, which made Mrs Hoadson go red like the inside of a volcano that was embarrassed because it had just been caught changing by an acquaintance from work, exposing its severe sunburn.

"huehehuhehuhue" Anderson chuckled as he walked towards the toilet clutching a match box and a mysterious bottle labeled "octane".No one so much as blinked. And continued to dance to the beautiful tune. Sherlock suddenly remembered that octane was a highly flammable substance "Anderson what are you doing." asked sherlock in a stern tone, because he was slightly suspicious of Anderson. "i'm trying to urinate in private is that a crime" said anderson. All of a sudden there was a small "bang" and anderson walked out of the room, looking frazzled, missing his eyebrows. "shup up everyone, I can hear smoke!" said molly….. oh my god,... the appartments….. ON FIRE!...


	8. I Started a Joke (Andersno's Soliloquy)

I stared down at the mess my drunken stupor had allowed me and a wave of regret came upon me like acid reflux. How… how did it end up like this? I stood mournfully as the bile rose up in my throat… like a leopard leaping through the air to catch some particularly **elusive** prey. The chyme churned itself with the alcohol of a heavy night, a wasted youth. I looked up at my reflection in the small mirror that was on the wall in front of my eyes. I saw before me… someone I no longer recognised. Am I truly still the Anderson I once was?

My youth rushed before my very eyes like an aggressive camera flash that leaves one with a **bewildering** imprint. I could see nothing for nostalgia and yearning.

I was back in the pub on a Friday night when Chondelle had sat next to me. She was… statuesque. The air was thick with sweat, alcohol and undying passion. We exchanged a quick moment of eye contact for a brief moment and the next thing I knew we were locked in an embrace in a public toilet stall that involved passionate mouth to mouth contact, our tongues sliding and slipping over each other like two oiled pieces of warm raw fish. It was as filled with passion as an old man who really likes football watching a football match, and his preferred team is losing, and as wet as the beer that he throws at the screen in a fit of rage. I looked at the toilet bowl below me and thought of Chondelle's beautiful face. I saw liquid slowly dripping into the bowl and realised that they were my own **tears**.

Later that night we had exchanged phone numbers. For a weak afterwards I felt dazed, happy, and in a stupour. I could not go any time without thinking of those passionate moments.

But then… on one fateful eve, I was cruelly rejected by my queen. I had sent her a romantic facebook message, along the lines of "hey beabe can;t w agen if u no wat i meen ;) xoxoxoxo luv u xoxooxoxoxoxox". For days she cruelly did not reply to my romantic invitation. I had truly almost given up, when she finally replied, saying: "hu dis?". On that day my heart was shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, so small, as small as an octane molecule.

I was suddenly brought back into the present when I remembered I was holding a bottle of octane. I looked up at my reflection and the red, blotchy patches around my eyes told a tale of heartbreak and a wool allergy.

"'til I finally died, which started the whole world living" cajoled and tittered the sensual velvety voice of Robin Gibb. "You're right, Robin Gibb." I thought to myself. I suddenly felt a box of matches in my hand. How long had they been there? I had no idea, as I was completely wasted.

Chondelle… why?

Unable to control the streams of tears rolling down my cheeks, I looked at the matches and octane in my shaking hands. "I wonder if octane is fireable" thought my wasted brain. I struck the match and all of a sudden there was a sharp pain in my eyebrows.

I heard molly hooper tell everyone to be quiet because she could hear smoke… then everything went black.


	9. Night Fever

Anderson was lying on the floor, his eyebrows singed off. 'oh my god, anderson is missing his eyebrows. Also, the appartment's on fire!' cried Mrs Hoadson in a shocked voice. "Oh no , " Said Sherlock. This is highly unfortunate. The fire must have been caused by the spark which lowered the energy threshold required for the oxidation of the octane."

Anderson stirred and made a provocative remark "hehe looks like I torched up the joint". All of a sudden John went a shade of rouge similar to a fire hydrant.

"WHAT THE FUCK YOU FUCKING IDIOT, I'LL SHOW YOU "TORCHED UP" YOU FUCKING FUCKHEAD COME HERE" said john as he proceeded to reign blows upon anderson.

"Alright, break it up, there's no need to loose it." Said Donovan calmly. "Grog, can you please send for some help we need to restrain jhon" "Oh my god I'm fine " said John, a betrayed expression on his face as he continued beating Anderson within an inch of his life. "stop it now that's an order" said Donovan as she put hand cuffs on John who was furious, yelling profanity at whoever would listen. "Guys the apartment is still on fire." Said Molly Hooper. Mycroufte was in the corner trembling and sobbing uncontrollably 'I hate fire' he said."Okay everyone it is time to evacuate" said Donovan, she and Detective Inspector Grogery Lustrade helped Mycroufte to his feet and evacuated everyone outside. John was writhing in his handcuffs like the Hungarian Horntail in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (all writes reserved J.K Rolling 2003).

"Yes hello, we've got a case of the **Night Fever** at 221B" said D.I Grogérie LeStrâde

"the fièvre de la nuit is dans le air" said Grôg in a French accent, rolling his r's like a French baker furiously rolling dough for** french bread**. "okay guys lets evacuate." said Mycroufte in a calm tone, as calm as a babbling brook underneath a cloudless sky that was very calm.

"John I've seen a side of you tonight I never want to see again" said Donovon in a dissaproving voice.

"I'm fine honestly you treat me like a fucking child, let me at anderson let mE AT HIM!"

"You have the right to remain silent." Dronovan said as she swiftly turned and stormed out the door.


	10. Nights On Broadway (Mrs H's Soliloquy)

Chapter 10 – Nights on Broadway (Mrs Hoadson's Soliloquy)

The pounding beat of the Bee Gee's 'Staying Alive' took me down a trip down memory lane. Yes, I, Mrs. Hoadson, was taken to my Nights On Broadway, the scent of vermouth, stage smoke, and cocaine infested my nostrils almost as vividly as forty five years ago. The scent was strong, as strong as a strong man who had engaged in a considerable amount of weightlifting throughout his life, gradually becoming more strong, and was now very stron.g Anyway, the emotions came upon me in a wave, like the waves of vermouth I drank in my days as an exotic entertainer in the backstreets of Manhattan.

FORTY FIVE YEARS AGO –

"You're on in five, Mrs. Hoadson" came a voice from outside the door, the door of my dressing room. It was my good friend Bert. I was in my line dancing costume which exposed most of my th*ghs, and all of my br*asts including my nipples. "OK" I said as I picked up my $1 note desparately, reaching for the white powder. "Delicious" I wispered. I was ready. Ready to take on… the world. The world… of **dance**. Ready. I inhaled deeply and a rush of ecstasy filled me like a satisfying drink of water after a marathon. That night, I danced like a majestic ballerina, if the ballerina was dancing in a s*xual manner in a seedy establishment. The leers and jeers of the men in the crowd rung in my ears like when one wakes up from a night of clubbing with a raging hangover and shot ears from the pumping hardcore techno music. It was as though I was flying, like a majestic eagle in the sky.

THE NEXT MORNING –

I woke at four am in the morning, the smell of sweat, cocaine, vermouth and various other bodily fluids, some of them s*xual in nature, filled my nose like mucus when one has a cold. I retrieved my minimal clothing and left the Kool Kat Klub. To face my life in the day as a typist at Mancroft Industries. How was I going to type coherently with this raging hangover. Morning Hoady said Krystal my co-worker, in her American accent, because I was in Manhattan, which is in the USA. "Hello Krystal," I said to my co-worker. That day it was difficult to type coherently, because of my hangover and acid reflux.

THAT NIGHT –

"OK Hoady, let's take a trip to pure ecstasy" said Krystal as she arranged the white powder of pleasure into neat lines on the back of her CD case with her credit card. I had my trusty $1 at the ready. I was ready. Ready to sell my soul to the sweet devil of coke, but not the kind you buy for $2 in a vending machine. Not A BEVERAGE INDEED.

PRESENT DAY -

I sighed, smiling into my tea cup. "Good times…" What are you smiling about Mrs. Hoadson said Donovon Ah nothing… Just My Nights On Broadway.


End file.
